


White Lies & Green Eyes

by imaddiegrace



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Accidental Flashing, Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grandpa Plisetsky gives the boys a talk, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sneaky!Yuri, awkward moments, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 08:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11824908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaddiegrace/pseuds/imaddiegrace
Summary: Otabek flies to Moscow to visit Yuri for the first time since the world championships. He expects to sightsee, go to local coffee places, and to eat authentic piroshki. What he found in Russia, however, was far beyond his expectations.tl;dr another otayuri confession fic





	White Lies & Green Eyes

Otabek feels his stomach churn with anticipation as he makes his way to baggage claim. He looks like absolute garbage, and he knows that. The dry, frosty air of the aircraft made his skin look less than appealing, and his hair was disheveled from his long flight. He has flown to Moscow from Almaty several times, but it always seems to slip his mind just how excruciating the flight experience is for him. It was his least favorite part of being a traveling athlete, the travel. 

Normally, looking a bit messy wouldn't faze him, but today it mattered. At least a little. He was going to see Yuri again for the first time since worlds. 

Waiting near the conveyer belt, he spotted his boring, conventional black suitcase. He took it and made his way to the sliding doors leading outside. 

It was then that he noticed his best friend, his eyes scanning the airport with purpose. A smile erupted on his face at the sight. Otabek made his way towards the Russian, and within seconds Yuri’s eyes locked with Otabek’s. 

Yuri ran over to him and enveloped him in a tight bear hug. 

“Beka!” He exclaimed, causing Otabek to drop the handle of his suitcase. Otabek returned his embrace, his nose filling with the scent of Yuri’s coconut conditioner. 

“I've missed you,” Otabek admitted, hoping he wasn't crossing a line by saying that. Of course, they had both reciprocated those words over text, but it felt different in person. 

“I missed you, too,” Yuri breaks away from their hug, a smile in his eyes. “Are you tired? You must be, with that flight, and all..” His voice trails off, seemingly thinking about other matters. 

“I am tired,” Otabek agrees, still gazing into Yuri’s green eyes. His eyelashes seemed exceptionally long today. Was he wearing mascara? Regardless, they looked beautiful. Especially when he batted them just so, like he was doing now. It took all of Otabek’s dwindling willpower to not reach out and brush his fingertips down those pale, translucent eyelids to close his eyes and lean in-

“Otabek,” Yuri huffed impatiently. “You didn't answer me. You must really be exhausted,” he mused. 

Otabek blinked, warped out of his daydreaming. Exhaustion wasn't the only thing that was distracting him. “What did you ask, again?” 

“Never mind. You're clearly not up for going out tonight.” Yuri took Otabek’s suitcase and started to drag it away. 

“The uber won't wait forever, princess. Even if you did come all the way from Kazakhstan,” Yuri said over his shoulder, blonde strands of hair falling in his face as he walked away. 

Otabek followed him outside into the mildly cold Russian night. 

. . . . .

Once arriving at Otabek’s hotel, they both emerged from the cramped car. Yuri’s grandfather lived in Moscow, but lived in a two bedroom house. Meaning, if Otabek were to stay there there wouldn't be any room. It wasn't ideal, but staying in a hotel would suffice. It was only a few minutes away from Yuri, which was more than he had in Almaty. 

“You don't have to come inside if you don’t want to,” Otabek said, wanting him to stay but not wanting him to feel obligated. 

“That's actually what I wanted to ask you,” Yuri seemed nervous as they entered the building. “My grandfather is having renovations done on the house, and I can't come home. Can I stay with you?” Yuri asked. 

“Yeah, of course,” Otabek answered without hesitation. Maybe he answered a little too fast. He hid his smile from Yuri, excited at the thought of having him in his room. His mind ran wild with possibilities, but even in his tired, ragged state his rationality kicked in immediately. Yuri was his friend. Yuri can't know. 

. . . . . 

Yuri insisted on being the one who opened the door to Otabek’s room, snatching the key card from his hands. The green light emitted from the machine as Yuri slid in the card. He opened the door, leading Otabek’s luggage inside. 

“There's only one bed,” Yuri noticed out loud. “I can sleep in the desk chair,” he offered, shrugging. 

“No, no, don't do that,” Otabek insisted. “Just share the bed with me.” He tried to make it sound as nonchalant as possible, like it didn't mean anything to be sleeping next to Yuri. 

Yuri nodded, his cheeks pink. He remained standing, reaching for the television remote. “Do you want to watch something?” He asked, changing the topic. 

“Sure, put on whatever you'd like.” Otabek slid off his shoes and his pants, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed with Yuri. His body slid into the soft, silky sheets. 

Yuri stood near the edge of the bed, a comedy talk show on the screen. 

“Are you coming to bed, or not?” Otabek asked. 

“Yes, I’m coming. Give me a sec,” he said quietly, flipping off the light switch. He removed his own shoes and tried to take off his skinny jeans, yanking at the tight denim in an effort to get them down. 

“They're… Not coming off,” he said between tugs. 

“You got them on, didn't you?” Otabek mumbled, finding it amusing.

Yuri sighed, the pants trapped around him. 

“Come here,” Otabek rolled over and sat up, offering his assistance. Yuri hopped over to him. 

Upon mere seconds of tugging himself, he found the issue. 

“They’re not unbuttoned, Yuri. That's the problem.” He undid the button and slid the zipper down, his cheeks warming at the intimate action. “Sometimes I think you're hopeless,” Otabek added. 

Yuri shoved him playfully. “Shut up.” He easily slid off the jeans and set them on the ground, climbing into the bed with Otabek.

They faced each other in bed, not quite touching but obviously aware of each other’s presence. Otabek could feel Yuri’s breath on his face, labored and heavy. 

“You're breathing like a horse,” Yuri teased. 

“So are you,” Otabek countered. 

There was a pause as Yuri’s breath hitched in his throat. “I'm really cold,” the blonde stated bluntly. 

Otabek blinked. “You live in Russia. Aren't you used to this?” He asked, already knowing the answer. Yuri didn't have a high tolerance for cold weather, surprisingly. He was constantly stealing Otabek’s jackets when they were out. 

Through the dim lighting Otabek saw Yuri roll his eyes. “Please, can you just…” Yuri paused. “Warm me up?” He finished. 

Otabek felt his heart start to beat faster at the request, his imagination wild. However, instead of acting on these thoughts, he simply pushed some of the comforter towards Yuri. 

“Better?” The brunette asked. 

“No, asshole. Like this,” Yuri scooted closer to Otabek, his head fitting under Otabek’s chin.

“Oh,” he said quietly, a bit surprised at Yuri’s bold move. 

Otabek felt the heat of the other pressing into him, a feeling that made him smile. Yuri's fingers held onto the fabric of Otabek’s shirt tightly, as if he was worried that Otabek would push him away. 

Otabek wrapped his arms around Yuri’s back, pulling him a little closer. He wondered how they would move forward from this. Would they keep being friends? Or would they become something entirely different? 

Being so close to Yuri would be a glorious thing if he wasn't worried he might pop a boner at any second. He silently prayed to any and all gods that may exist in an attempt to avoid an awkward encounter.

Otabek tilted his nose downwards, inhaling the scent of Yuri’s hair. He smelled clean, his hair soft prickles on Otabek’s nose. He nuzzled his face into the crown of Yuri’s head, sleepiness taking hold of his body. 

“Are you smelling me, creep?” Yuri asked in a teasing tone. Otabek tensed, not saying anything. He was joking, right? 

“Relax, I'm kidding,” Yuri ran a hand down Otabek’s shirt soothingly. “You smell nice too,” the blonde added. 

Otabek doubted that was true, considering he had been traveling all day. Regardless of his own thoughts, he quietly accepted the compliment. 

Yuri pressed his lips onto the base of Otabek’s neck quickly. “Goodnight, Beka,” he whispered. 

Otabek smiled, a warm feeling spreading over him. “Sweet dreams.” 

. . . . . .

Otabek woke up to the sound of a ringtone. It wasn't his own, so it had to be Yuri’s. It was still dark outside, the sounds of city nightlife wafting into his hotel room.

He didn't want Yuri to wake up, so he reached over Yuri to pick up the phone. 

Incoming Call from Dedushka 

He quickly got out of bed and answered the phone, figuring it must be important. 

Clicking the green button on the screen, he spoke into the phone. 

“Hello, this is Otabek,” he whispered. 

“Hello Otabek, can you put my grandson on the phone?” He asked, seeming a little worried. 

“Yuri’s sleeping right now.” 

“Why isn't he sleeping at my house? Is he somewhere safe?” 

“We’re both in my hotel room,” Otabek explained, glancing over at the sleeping male. “He said that your house was getting renovated, so he had to stay with me.” 

“Goddamn boy,” Nikoli spoke with his voice muffled, and Otabek can imagine that he's probably covering his face with his hands. “There are no renovations. I can't imagine why he said that.” There was a short pause over the phone. 

“Scratch that, I can imagine exactly why he would do that,” Nikolai grumbled.

Otabek’s lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed. Why would Yuri lie about that? 

Then, all of Yuri’s advances became abundantly clear to him. The long hug at the airport. The skinny jeans situation. Yuri cuddling with him in bed. He did this all on purpose. He must have lied to stay with Otabek. 

“Bring him over tomorrow morning. First thing,” Nikolai said, sounding exasperated. 

Otabek nodded, but quickly realized that Nikolai wouldn't be able to see that. “Of course, I will do that.” 

Nikolai hung up, leaving the line in silence. Trying not to think too hard, Otabek placed Yuri’s phone down on the nightstand and slid back into bed. 

He wrapped his arms back around Yuri, quickly falling asleep again. 

. . . . .

Otabek opened his eyes once more, sunlight streaming through the open curtains. Yuri was awake, a cup of coffee in his hands. His hair was a little mussed, and he was still in his boxers. Otabek sat up, looking into his sea green eyes. 

“Morning,” Yuri said, handing him the cup of coffee. “I made you this, I don't like coffee-”

“You only like the smell,” Otabek finished, remembering with clarity. 

He took a sip of the hot, bitter liquid, enjoying the taste. 

After Otabek collected his thoughts, he broke the momentary silence between them. “I think we need to talk.” 

Yuri fidgeted where he sat. “Sure, what's up?”

“Your grandpa called last night, wondering where you were.” 

“He worries sometimes, it's not a big deal.” 

Otabek walked over and sat next to Yuri, his steaming coffee still in one hand. 

“He said that there weren't any renovations happening at his house.” 

Yuri looked down at his lap, not saying anything to defend himself. 

“Yura, say something. Please,” Otabek asked lightly. 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked quietly. 

“I want you to tell me why you lied.” 

Yuri tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I get scared at my grandpa’s house sometimes, all of the old antique stuff really creeps me out-” he started, speaking fast. 

“Yura.” 

“And my grandpa never has any good food in the house, it's always unflavored seltzer water and saltines.” 

“You love your grandpa’s cooking,” Otabek countered. 

“I-It smells weird in there.” Yuri finished.

Otabek put his coffee down on the floor and put a hand on Yuri’s thigh. “Please tell me the truth,” he begged. 

Yuri pushed Otabek’s hand off of him. “Don't touch me.”

Otabek recoiled, hurt by Yuri’s words. 

“You don't mean it the way I do,” Yuri gritted his teeth. He put his head in his hands, his eyes cast downward. 

“That's not true,” Otabek countered.

“I don't understand how you can say that. How can you like me? All I am is rude to you. I hurt people-” He looked up from his hands into Otabek’s eyes “-I hurt you.” 

“When?” 

“Just now. I snapped at you,” Yuri explained.

“You won't hurt me by telling the truth.”

Yuri took a deep breath. “I-I figured that you would get one bed in your hotel. And I wanted to…” His eyes flicked towards the pillows. “I wanted to be close to you. I really like you. And… Making it seem like an obligation made it easier to do.” 

Otabek took a few moments to process his words, his lips upturning at the edges. “Yura, look at me,” he said softly. 

Yuri's eyes shot back to Otabek’s, his green pools full of worry. 

“I like you, too.” 

After an uncomfortable moment, Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek and hugged him. Otabek returned the embrace, anxious about the next steps of their relationship. 

“Um, Yuri?” Otabek hesitantly broke their moment. 

Yuri pulled away from their hug and looked into Otabek’s eyes. “Yeah?” 

“Your grandfather asked me to bring you to his house today.” 

Yuri looked down and cursed in Russian. “He’s going to be so pissed.” 

“I think he already is.”

. . . . .

Otabek stepped out of the bathroom in a towel, getting ready to leave. The Kazakh didn't miss the way that Yuri’s eyes widened at his partially unclothed state. 

“Yuri, can you toss me my aftershave? It's in my suitcase, I think.” Otabek rummaged through the dresser to find a suitable outfit to wear. 

“Found it! Catch!” Yuri said, throwing the container. Otabek turned and caught it with both hands, feeling his towel slip off of his hips.

Well, shit. 

Yuri shrieked, but took a rather long moment to look away. “Otabek! Put that away!” He yelled. 

Embarrassed out of his mind, Otabek pulled the towel on and retreated back to the bathroom with his clothes. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled.  
. . . . . 

Delivering on his word, Otabek and Yuri arrived at Nikolai Plisetsky’s home promptly at 9:30 am. The towel situation was not discussed, but Otabek and Yuri managed to have normal conversation on the Uber over. 

Nikolai opened the door to the cozy, brick house before they had the chance to knock. 

“Otabek, it's wonderful to see you,” he greeted warmly. “Yuratchka, we need to talk,” he said in a much colder tone. 

The skaters walked inside, and Otabek admired the photos of Yuri on the wall. There was one of Yuri when he was probably around four, with a tiger plushie in his hands, and another of Yuri winning a junior competition. 

“You look cute there,” Otabek commented. Yuri simply rolled his eyes, but a smile remained on his lips. 

“Yuratchka, Otabek, sit. I made breakfast.” 

Otabek followed the scent of delicious meats and pancakes into the kitchen, finding that Yuri’s grandfather made quite a bit of food. Athletes stereotypically eat a lot, but even this seems excessive. Not that Otabek would ever comment on that. 

“Thank you very much,” Otabek said, serving himself with food. Yuri followed, doing the same. 

“Yuratchka, learn some manners from him. It wouldn't kill you to be thankful. And Otabek, the bacon is beef, I know you can't eat pork,” Nikolai said, seating himself. 

“Thank you,” Otabek repeated, surprised that he would do that for him. Normally, people don't know that because of his religion he can't eat pork. Yuri’s grandfather was very considerate. 

When they were all seated, an awkward moment passed where no one spoke. 

Finally breaking the silence, Nikolai set his fork down rather loudly. 

“Yuri, care to explain to me why you lied to your friend last night? I was very worried when you didn't come home.” Nikolai spoke sternly, showing how upset he was. 

Yuri took a moment to collect his thoughts before he answered. “Grandpa- I, um,” he starts. “I like Otabek.” 

Nikolai rolls his eyes. “Do you think I'm stupid, Yuratchka? I can see that. You didn't answer my question.”

“No, grandpa, I mean romantically. I like him,” Yuri explains further, flustered. 

“And I said that I already knew that. Continue.”

Yuri looks up, seemingly wondering how his grandfather knew. 

“The walls in this house are very thin, Yuri. I hear everything. You keep me up at night.” Nikolai grumbled. 

Yuri blushed furiously. “Dedushka! Stop!” He whined. 

Otabek glanced away from Yuri, trying hard not to imagine Yuri jerking off while saying his name. He wasn't sure if he should be flattered or embarrassed. 

“Not until you answer my question.” Nikolai countered. 

“I wanted to sleep in the same bed as Otabek!” Yuri exclaimed loudly. Otabek was growing uncomfortable at the table, his food long forgotten. 

Nikolai sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Next time, don't lie.” He said simply. 

Another moment of silence passed over the table before Nikolai spoke again. 

“Do I need to talk to you two about protection?” 

Yuri groaned. “Grandpa, stop.” 

“Mr Plisetsky, I don't believe that that discussion is necessary,” Otabek spoke quietly, his own cheeks reddening. 

“I don't want to talk about that any more than you do, but if you two keep having sleepovers I think that it's important.” Nikolai briefly walked into the kitchen and came back with a small box. He pushed it over to the two of them silently. 

Yuri’s cheeks reddened further. “Condoms? Dedushka, we aren't doing anything like that.” 

Otabek looked at the box with wide eyes, unable to speak. 

“Please just take them so I don't have to worry.” 

“Those won't even fit Beka,” Yuri mumbled. 

Otabek choked on the egg he was eating, his mind brought back to this morning when he accidentally flashed Yuri. 

“How do you expect me to believe that you two aren't doing anything if you're so sure that they won't fit?” Nikolai said, looking shocked. 

“Yuri, don't,” Otabek begged, hiding his face in his hands. If Nikolai didn't hate Otabek before, he surely wouldn't like him now.

“I saw his dick, but that doesn't mean he fucked me!” Yuri said all too loudly. Otabek and Nikolai were both mortified.

Nikolai took a deep breath before speaking again. “Just take the box.” 

. . . . .

Otabek and Yuri pile into the Uber after exchanging awkward goodbyes with Nikolai. 

“I'm sorry that he was being so weird,” Yuri said quietly. “I mean, it's not like we're together or anything.” 

Ouch. Although technically true, it still stung a bit. 

Otabek nodded, looking out the window. 

“Although, it was funny to see you all flustered. You're cute when you blush,” Yuri said quietly. 

Otabek turned back towards Yuri, finding a smile on the blonde's face. 

“You're such a tease, you know that?” 

Yuri shrugged, inconspicuously putting his hand on Otabek’s thigh as they neared the hotel. 

They exited the car their feet barely making it into the sidewalk before Otabek stops and grabs Yuri’s hips. 

Yuri let out a little gasp and allowed himself to be pulled in by the brunette. 

“For the record, I like your blush as well,” Otabek spoke softly. 

“Stop being cheesy,” Yuri chastised with no intention of wanting the other to stop. 

Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek’s neck and pulled him into a kiss that took Otabek’s breath away.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that short (albeit cheesy) fic. 
> 
> stalk me here: dandybek.tumblr.com
> 
> kudos and all that shit are appreciated, merci.


End file.
